


Your Love Changed Me

by Casey_K



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Jealous Stiles, M/M, Marking, Possessive Stiles Stilinski, Scott is a Bad Friend, Transformation, True Mates, Werewolf Mates, supernatural Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-05-25 23:07:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14987558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casey_K/pseuds/Casey_K
Summary: Stiles couldn't be happier with his budding new 'thing' with the hottest guy this side of the planet--probably the whole planet. Apart from one thing, okay, two things... Everybody thought it was okay to flirt with Stiles' man, and nobody could understand why Derek even looked Stiles' way. Yeah...that kind of shit gets old real quick. Stiles soon finds himself tipping over into Lalaland as years of being the butt of everyone's jokes plays out in a very unusual way, as he strives to stake his claim on Derek for the whole world to see.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I found this one gathering dust on my hard drive. Thought maybe a few people might like it. :)

Stiles liked to think of himself as a reasonable guy, he really did. He’d put up with a lot of shit in his life. Maybe not life threatening or seriously abusive—until recently, at least—but the soul draining rasp of constantly being the butt of too many dumbass jokes and overly expressive observations about how he didn’t quite stack up to societies expectations. Of course, the biggest joke of all came with those few little words ‘liked to think of himself’, because in reality, Stiles was anything but reasonable. Sure, he carried it off, he fooled the world into thinking he was easy-going and could take it all on the chin, but underneath he was a seething mess of jealousy and barely contained rage.

And nobody knew. 

Nobody knew until the arrival of one ridiculously frustrating and annoyingly perfect, Derek Hale. And really, in the face of all that gorgeousness, in the face of all that rugged power and grouchy sourness, but most importantly, in the face of discovering someone who actually saw Stiles for who and what he really was, and when that person didn’t shy away but steadfastly stood by his side and was just there for him in ways no one else had ever been—not even Scott—how could Stiles not fall in love? More of a crashed and burned into love. A careening off a cliff into love. But most definitely head over heels with fluffy bunnies and flower petals kind of love. 

And that all sounds so blissfully perfect. And in so many ways it is. And in oh, so many ways, it just seriously isn’t. Because that jealousy and rage burning bright just beneath Stiles’ skin, burned ten times hotter when Derek was around. 

Most of the time, Stiles can sit back and observe the world—observe the world observing Derek—and celebrate the joyous reality that Derek is his. And Derek, being Derek, is totally, 100%, fully committed and utterly invested in Stiles. Whether it’s a werewolf thing, or a post traumatic ‘my entire family are dead because I trusted the world’ thing, Stiles isn’t sure, but what he is sure about, is that Derek is sure about him. In the dark places, when the world and all its crap becomes too much, Stiles remembers he’s the one who gets to see the private side of Derek. The soft, unguarded, slightly sappy side, that allows Stiles to feel safe, and loved despite his many flaws. Because under his perfect exterior, Derek is just as broken as Stiles, but together…together they can take on the world and totally make her their bitch. So, having Derek, loving Derek, for the most part allows Stiles to keep a lid on his many, many frustrations, and indignations. For the most part. 

There’s another part. The leftover part. The part that strains the seams of Stiles’ overly stuffed bag of dangerously dark emotions. The part of life where Stiles is expected to standby good naturedly and watch as the world flirts shamelessly with his boyfriend and gets all up in his face with the mocking disbelief that someone like Derek could possibly be with someone like Stiles. And the biggest, gut-wrenching, ball-breaking, component of that hugely underrated part it how much of it comes from people he thought were his friends. Strangers reactions are easier to deal with. Much, much, easier to deal with. Friends and family…that’s where it gets tricky. And Derek is always there, soothing the edges of Stiles’ breakdowns, reassuring and affirming Stiles that he is Derek’s whole world, and Stiles knows it’s the truth. Knows it with parts of himself he didn’t even know existed until Derek unwrapped them. 

The hardest so far has been Scott. When he first found out Stiles had tumbled head first into Derek, he was furious. Even now, six months in, he’s suspicious and untrusting of Derek’s motives, and that is the basis of Stiles’ current predicament, the match to the proverbially fuse that sends everything to hell in a hand basket with Stiles riding the wave. It’s the spark that changes everything.

 

“I still don’t trust him, Stiles.” Scott is pacing his room. He always paces these days. 

“That much is obvious,” Stiles says. “I don’t know what else I can do to make you see he’s not like that.”

“Of course, you don’t see it. That’s the point, isn’t it? He’s got you all wrapped up in his perfect smile you can’t see what he’s really up to.”

Stiles frays slightly around the edges, because although he knows what’s coming next, expects it after so much repetition along the same theme, it still hurts like fuck. “Wha…what are you implying exactly?” 

“Oh, come on, Stiles, be realistic. Why else would someone like Derek be with you? He’s using you, Stiles.” Scott huffs, and Stiles finds himself counting breaths to keep his temper at a low simmer, trying to ignore the word _realistic_. “He’s using you to get to me,” Scott continues, arms flailing. “He wants me in his pack, wants to control me and he’s using you to do it.” Scott stops and looks pityingly at Stiles. “I’m sorry, man, I know it sounds harsh, but we’re talking about Derek Hale, dude. The guy’s like twenty, and he’s hot. Seriously hot. He could have anyone, and yet…” Scott stops, seemingly realising what he’s saying.

“Oh, don’t stop. Finish that thought, Scott, don’t spare my feelings, you just get it all off your chest.”

Scott stares. He doesn’t look sorry. He looks…irritated.

“And yet he chose me. I think that’s where you were going with that one, am I right?”

“You have to admit my point is relevant,” Scott adds sulkily. Stiles takes a deep, steadying breath. He needs Derek. Derek would know how to put right the wrong seeping into Stiles’ bones from the thoughtlessness and betrayal of his oldest friend. He grabs his jacket from Scott’s desk and walks out of the door. “Stiles,” Scott calls. “Hey, Stiles, come on, man, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” But Stiles knows that’s exactly how he meant it. It’s how he always means it. On a frustratingly regular basis, and with steadily increasing frequency. Because in Scott’s world, everyone wants a piece of him, and nobody could possibly want anything Stiles has to offer. 

Stiles waits until he’s a mile down the road before pulling over and taking out his phone. He fires off a text to Derek. ‘Need you. Scott is being an ass. Again.’ He doesn’t wait long for a response. ‘Come to the subway. Be warned, everyone is here.’ Great. Everyone. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. Just what he needs, more asinine comments about how he isn’t good enough. But the pull of Derek is strong enough to overcome the frustration. ‘I’ll be there in five.’ He smiles at the little <3 that comes back to him, and sets off, already feeling better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tense is a bit squiffy

The scowl on Erica’s face is enough to tell Stiles he is not welcome. Like that’s a surprise. Boyd, as ever, is frustratingly neutral, and Isaac…well, Isaac looks to Derek, and if Derek is happy then Isaac is happy. Stiles searches out Derek and he’s…he looks…jaded. He brightens as his gaze settles on Stiles, and Stiles hears the unmistakable rumble of Erica’s growl. Derek sighs, and wanders over to greet Stiles with light kisses and a warm embrace that says ‘I missed you.’ Stiles shudders and allows the tension to bleed out of his aching muscles, tense from holding everything in all the time. Derek nuzzles into his neck and Stiles holds on. His head thunks against Derek’s shoulder as Erica’s growl gets louder. 

“Out,” Derek snaps. “All of you. Now.”

“But where are we supposed to go?” Erica counters. “We were in the middle of something, if you remember. You can’t keep dropping us for your little booty call, Derek.”

In a blur, Derek is gone from Stiles arms and is pinning Erica to the floor, claws buried deep into her shoulder, and eyes flashing red. “You need to learn some respect,” he snapped, fangs extended threatening against her throat. “I have no use for a beta who can’t accept authority.”

Erica chokes out a strangled sob, and Derek pulls away. “Boyd, Isaac, go to the woods and practise your tracking exercises.” Both boys jump to their feet and disappear. “Erica, it’s time you had a visit with your parents. Don’t come back until I text you, do you understand?” She nods once, straightening herself out, and managing to throw an impressive death stare at Stiles as she grabs her jacket and leaves. 

Derek huffs out a sigh, and then smiles, lighting up Stiles’ world. “I’m all yours,” he says, wandering back over to wrap his arms around Stiles again. “They’ll warm to you eventually. You just need to give them time.”

“Right, okay.”

“It’s a lot for them to process. They are still coming to terms with being wolves and see me as their parent of sorts.” Derek shrugged, pressing his body against Stiles and nuzzling again into his neck. “Wolves don’t like to share.”

“Neither do I,” Stiles says, digging his fingers into Derek’s back. “And I also don’t like it when people constantly remind me you’re out of my league.”

Derek’s chuckle soothes away Stiles tension. “We both know the truth of that, Stiles. I may be pleasing to the eye…”

“Oh, you are definitely that,” Stiles says, stripping Derek’s t-shirt over his head. 

Derek pulls back pretending to be scandalised. “Are you saying you’re only with me because of the way I look?” 

Stiles smiles. “Oh, no. I’m much more attracted to your riveting conversation.”

Derek chuckles again. “We both know I’m the one out of my league, Stiles, and that’s only going to become more obvious as time passes.” Derek shakes his head as he looks Stiles over from head to toe. “Look at you, all kinds of wonderful already. Another year or two and you are going to leave me trailing behind you.” 

Stiles didn’t doubt Derek’s words, even if he couldn’t see it himself. Years of being put down, of relying on self-deprecating humour had left him hollowed out. “I wish I could see what you see,” he whispered, and Derek pulls him into a soft, languid kiss that goes a little way to repairing the frayed edges of Stiles mind. 

 

After a few hours of pampering courtesy of Stiles’ favourite werewolf, Stiles was feeling much better and ready to face the world once more. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for the rest of the guys to come back?” Derek asked. 

“Yeah, go for it. I have to get used to them as much as they do me, I guess.” Derek reached for his phone and winced, stopping to flex his shoulder. “Hey,” Stiles smoothed a hand over the offending area, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” Derek said, moving into Stiles’ hand. “Guess I trained them harder than I realised this morning.” Irritation bubbled under Stiles skin, but Derek just rested a hand over his. “I’ll be more careful next time. It’s not their fault.”

“Okay, okay.” But it wasn’t okay. Stiles would be sure to watch out for the offending beta who thought they could get rough with his boyfriend, werewolf or not. He’d pick them out, and if it was a show of strength, rather than an honest accident Stiles would dish out the relevant punishment. He caught his thoughts as they threatened to spiral into darkness and held on to Derek. Yeah, like he could punish a werewolf. What was he going to do, tickle them into surrender? Actually, that could work—for Isaac, anyway. Boyd and Erica, not so much.


	3. Chapter 3

It took until lunch time the next day, blessedly a Saturday, for the wolves to gather again, but much less time for them to start picking at Stiles’ last nerve. He could feel Derek flashing concerned looks from across the room, but he steadfastly refused to meet his eye. He watched instead, as the group played a simple game of tag around a makeshift obstacle course. It was a test in patience, seeing them constantly rubbing against Derek as they tried to avoid being caught by Isaac. Isaac launched himself through the air and caught Erica’s shoulder before landing on his feet and scooting behind Derek. 

“You’ll pay for that,” she snarled, and an evil grin spread across her face. Stiles felt the burst of adrenaline into his system as Erica zoned in, not on Isaac, but on Derek. “You are _mine_ , Alpha boy,” she chimed. 

Stiles was off his feet, and before any of the wolves realised what was happening, he’d grabbed one of Argent’s shock sticks they’d managed to steal during a fight and knocked Erica to the floor with a full blast. “You wanna take him, bitch,” Stiles bellowed. “You come through _me_.”

“Stiles!”

Stiles turned on Derek as the other wolves rushed to Erica’s side. He could feel the anger still coursing through his veins. He flicked off the power and advanced on Derek. “Stiles, what are you...” He thwacked the stick once around Derek’s thigh, and again across his upper arm. 

“I’ve told you not to encourage her,” he shouted. “What do I have to do to make you realise you belong to me?” Stiles readied the stick again, but Derek put his hands up, palms facing Stiles in a show of surrender. 

“I do belong to you, it’s okay. Everyone knowns that, here, Stiles. You don’t have to prove anything.”

Stiles shoulders slumped, his arm suddenly heavy. Derek reached slowly for the shock stick and threw it to one side, pulling Stiles into a gentle embrace. “Get her out of here,” Derek said over Stiles’ shoulder. 

“But Derek…” Isaac’s voice, worried rather than questioning Derek’s authority. 

“Let her sleep it off. I’ll call you later.”

Stiles let his head fall onto Derek’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t know what happened. I wanted to rip her throat out, but you know, I don’t have teeth or claws, so…”

“So you chose the next best option?” 

“Something like that.”

Derek chuckled. Actually chuckled. 

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about me messing up your pups?”

“As my partner, you weigh in well above Erica in the pack hierarchy, so no, I’m not concerned. Not as the Alpha at least.” He pulled back and took Stiles’ chin in his hand. “I am however, concerned about you. You’ve never displayed anything like that level of aggression before. Are you sure you’re okay? I mean, you know I’d never actually be interested in any of the others, right?”

“I know. I just don’t like that they think they could try. That I couldn’t…oh, god, what’s happening to me? I was going to say, that I couldn’t defend my claim on you. That’s messed up, right?”

Derek purred against Stiles’ lips. “Not to me it isn’t.” Derek lifted Stiles off his feet and Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist, and his arms around his neck. “In fact, I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Romantic, that’s me,” Stiles said. “Who needs flowers, when you can say it with a shock stick and a few casualties.”

“Maybe go with the flowers next time, though.” 

Stiles smiled, but the tension didn’t leave him completely until Derek had spent the next hour showing Stiles, exactly how much he belonged to him.

 

Erica was wary of Stiles when he made it out of Derek’s bed and down for dinner. He’d felt guilty until he saw her, and then the rumble of jealousy started up again and he had to clench his fist to keep focus. He couldn’t not say anything, the way they were all waiting for him to be the first to break the deafening silence. He took a deep breath and headed over to Erica, noticing Boyd hovering. Erica looked at Boyd and had the nerve to smirk at Stiles, and even though it was all false bravado it irked him. He may only be human, but he needed to make sure she understood exactly what he was capable of. “Erica…” He smiled sweetly, and she scoffed. “I want to apologise for letting things get out of hand earlier,” he put up his hand to stop her from saying anything, “but I just want you to know that if you pull a stunt like that again I would not hesitate to gut you and feed your innards to my neighbour’s pet cat.” Erica’s jaw dropped, and as Stiles kept eye contact so did her gaze. Submission. Finally. “I’m so glad we understand each other, pumpkin. Now, can we be friends?” She nodded once but didn’t look up. “Excellent.” Stiles clapped his hands together. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving.”


	4. Chapter 4

After that, things with Erica got weird. Well, weirder. She started stalking him at school, taking every opportunity to hug him and touch him, reaffirming her submission. She still didn’t hang out with him and Scott, or sit with them at lunch, but she was a constant presence lurking in the background. After Chem one day, he came out to find Miles Peterson pinned against his locker with Erica whispering in his ear. He didn’t think it was a coincidence that Miles happened to have knocked into Stiles earlier that day, laughing as his books tumbled to the floor and making a comment about Stiles being a loser. Miles followed Erica’s gaze to see Stiles. She thumped him against the locker, and Miles spluttered out a ‘sorry, Stiles’ before Erica dropped him and walked past Stiles with a smile and a quick peck to the cheek. Miles rubbed at his throat. “Your girlfriend is totally whacked out, man. That was uncool.”

“That was nothing to do with me, I can assure you.”

 

“What is up with Erica?” Scott asked at lunch. They both looked over at her watching them from a nearby table. 

“I have no idea. I warned her off Derek and now she’s like my shadow.”

“You threatened a werewolf? You threatened Erica? Are you completely insane? She’s probably waiting to bury you somewhere.”

“No, it’s worse than that,” Stiles said, rubbing his hands over his head. “I kicked her ass, and now I think she’s like protecting me or something.”

“What do you mean, you kicked her ass?”

Stiles bristled at Scott’s total disbelief. “I do have some skills, Scott. I’m not completely useless.”

Before Scott could comment again Danny joined the table, taking a seat next to Stiles. “So,” he said, grinning. “You and Erica, huh?”

“Me and Erica, what?”

“It’s all over the school, man. Stiles and his big, bad, girlfriend, humping like bunnies in the woods.”

Stiles didn’t have to say anything, they could hear Erica’s growl. Stiles looked over at her. “You’ve done this,” he said. “This is your doing.” Erica just waved at him and smiled. 

“So you are dating then?” Danny asked, almost disappointed. 

“No, we’re not dating. It’s just,” Stiles chanced a look at her again. This time she was absorbed in a conversation with Isaac. “It’s just complicated.”

Danny laughed. He slid closer to Stiles until they were touching all the way down and draped an arm around his shoulder. “How complicated, exactly?”

Stiles was about to extricate himself from Danny’s embrace when Erica slipped between them, pushing Danny almost onto the floor. She turned to him and smiled. “I like you, Danny,” she said quietly, “I really, really do. But if you lay as much as a finger on Stiles again, I’ll rip your arm off and leave you to bleed out on the floor.”

“I told you it was complicated,” Stiles said, looking around Erica to where Danny didn’t look anywhere near worried enough. 

“So, you are fucking?” he asked Erica. 

Erica snorted. “Just stay away, cupcake. Stiles already has a boyfriend, and let’s just say I’m representing his interests in this particular negotiation.” She was gone as quickly as she appeared. 

“Boyfriend, huh? Anyone I know?” Realisation dawned on Danny’s face. “Ah, I knew he wasn’t your cousin. Wow, your man is hot, Stilinski. Does he have a brother? We could like, double date or something.”

“No brother, just an insane uncle, and a really weird taste in pets.”

“It’s Miguel, right?”

“Derek,” Stiles said in response to Scott’s laughter. “His name is Derek.”

“Why are we talking about Derek?” Jackson put his tray on the table and took the seat opposite Danny. 

“You know Stilinski’s boyfriend?” The surprise in Danny’s voice was obvious. 

“Sure, we hang out all the time.”

“The three of you?”

“Of course.” Jackson started to devour his food, failing to notice the look on Danny’s face.

“So that’s why you’re always busy these days, because you’re off on some wild threesome with Stilinski and his boyfriend?” Danny threw his fork down and stood abruptly. “You could have at least invited me, man. I thought we were friends.” And he disappeared out of the door. 

“What?” Jackson said, as Stiles and Scott stared. “It’s not my fault he jumped to the wrong conclusion. Not that I wouldn’t say no to a little of that action.” He grinned, shovelling another mouthful of food. Stiles felt the _ping, ping, ping_ , of his tenuous control snapping. “Well, I wouldn’t say no to Derek, at least. Not so sure about your scrawny ass.”

Stiles launched himself over the table and pinned Jackson to the floor in a clatter of plates. “You will stay away from Derek. He’s _mine_.” Stiles voice was so low and growly he scared himself, let alone Jackson. 

“Stiles,” Scott said, tentatively touching his shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy.”

“It was a joke, Stiles. Fuck,” Jackson spluttered, eyeing Stiles hand. It was then Stiles saw the fork he had pressing against Jackson’s jugular. He stared at it for a moment then threw it away and sat back. 

“Stilinski, what the hell is going on here?” Stiles looked up to see a small crowd gathered, and Coach staring down at him as he straddled Jackson. 

“I know I encourage you boys to rough each other up but save it for the field.” Stiles jumped up and backed himself into the table. “Jackson, up,” Coach said. “Don’t just lie around there all day.”

Jackson looked at Stiles, as though asking for permission to move. Stiles nodded once and took the few steps needed to offer Jackson his hand. Jackson took it, and Stiles pulled him to his feet. “Sorry,” he said. “I, uh…sorry.”

For once, Jackson looked truly humbled and apologetic. “I really was joking, Stiles. Nobody is going to challenge you for Derek.”

“Okay, then. That’s good. Yeah, that’s good.”

The crowd dispersed, leaving Stiles shaken. “I want to see that aggression on the field, Stilinski, maybe you’ll make first line.” Coach said, before winking at him and walking away. 

“How did you do that?” Scott asked. He pressed Stiles’ bag into his chest and dragged him out of the canteen.

“Do what?”

“Pin Jackson to the floor like that. Stiles, there is no way you should have gotten the drop on him, let alone be able to keep him there. Hell, even I didn’t see you move until it was too late.”

Stiles huffed. He was still shaken, but at the same time pissed at Scott’s attitude. “I told you, Scott, I can look out for myself.”

“That much is clear.” Scott frowned. “It still doesn’t answer the how.” Scott narrowed his eyes and sniffed at the air. “Did Derek bite you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think I wouldn’t have told you I was going to ask for the bite? We’ve discussed this before, it’s not for me.”

“What if he did it without you knowing, like in the throes of passion or something.”

Stiles wanted to slap him. “I think I would know, Scott. Come on.”

“Well, something is going on.” 

Stiles trailed along the corridor behind Scott. There was something going on. Stiles was finally losing his grip. It would be just as things were working out for him. Almost straight A’s, ridiculously hot boyfriend, even a shot at first line. Yup, of course something was going to go wrong. How could it not?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you interested in more of this one.

Stiles wasn’t surprised to see Derek leaning against the Camaro after school. He lounged against the car looking all kinds of wonderful, but the best part was the way he wrapped Stiles up and just held him. 

“Hey, Stilinski,” some girl who’s voice he didn’t recognise called out. “Let me know when you’re done with your boyfriend. I’ll make sure to give him my number.”

Stiles sighed, and Derek kissed the top of his head. “I think we need to see Deaton.” Derek waited patiently until Stiles slowly nodded his head, and he allowed Derek to manoeuvre him into the passenger seat. 

It wasn’t far to Deaton’s clinic, but Stiles needed to ask anyway. “I guess you heard from Jackson.”

Derek squeezed Stiles’ knee and smiled. “It’ll be okay, Stiles. We’ll figure it out.”

“What do you think it is?”

“Let’s just speak to Deaton first.”

 

“Hello, gentlemen, what can I do for you today?”

Ever the example of perfect manners, and yet, if Stiles didn’t know better he would have thought Deaton was expecting them. “Did you call ahead?” he asked Derek. Derek shook his head. 

“Perhaps you should come through to a more private area.”

So many things had happened in the very examination room they were standing in, including Stiles thinking he was going to have to cut off Derek’s arm. God, that seemed like a lifetime ago. Stiles looked at Derek, who looked at Deaton. 

“Stiles, you have something you want to ask me?” Deaton said. 

“Uh, well, I um…” Stiles looked to Derek. 

“Stiles is having some issues with jealousy, more specifically possessiveness. Over me,” he added as an afterthought. 

“I see. I did wonder when your relationship would become…more.” Deaton smiled. “And is this at any particular time, Stiles, or with certain people, maybe?”

“So far it’s only been with wolves, not regular people, thank god.” He didn’t want to think about what kind of damage he’d have inflicted on say…Danny, or Lydia.

“And how are you expressing this possessiveness?”

“Full blown aggression,” Derek answered for him. “With them and me.”

“That was one time,” Stiles countered.

Deaton raised an eyebrow. “You are taking on the wolves physically?” Stiles nodded. “Interesting. And the result?” 

“Oh, he’s winning,” said Derek with a hint of pride in his voice. “The bruises he gave me didn’t heal until well into the next day.” Stiles glared at Derek, but Derek only smiled back at him like they were some kind of trophy rather than a sign Stiles was unhinged.

“Any other changes?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Stiles said. 

“Yes,” said Derek, being careful not to look at Stiles. 

“An example?”

Derek looked at Stiles nervously, then stripped off his shirt and bared his back. A snarl escaped Stiles throat as he lunged forward, knocking Derek to the floor, and grabbing him by the throat. “Where did the scratches come from, Derek?”

“From you,” Derek choked out, his hand trying to pry Stiles’ fingers from his neck. “I swear, Stiles. You did it the other night. In bed. After the thing with Erica.”

Anger seared through Stiles at the lies. “They would have healed by now, and guess what Derek, I bite my nails. I couldn’t scratch you up like that even if I wanted to.” 

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Deaton said, breaking the spell. Stiles backed off Derek and kept going until he bumped into the wall. “Are you okay, Stiles?” Stiles nodded. 

“What’s happening to me, Doc?”

“We’ll get to that.” Deaton looked at Derek, still sprawled on the floor. “And you? Are you going to join us?”

“I can’t,” Derek said, snorting a laugh. “I can’t get up.” He looked at Stiles and raised an eyebrow. “Stiles?" Stiles nodded, and Derek staggered to his feet. “You believe me, right?”

Stiles couldn’t answer. He was too confused, too angry. “Stiles?” Deaton said quietly. “Can I see your hands?” 

“What? Why?” Stiles raised his shaky hands in front of him and choked on any words that may have been forming in his throat. What the ever-living fuck?

“May I?” Deaton asked as he approached Stiles cautiously. Stiles nodded, and Deaton took hold of his hand to examine the long extensions protruding from the ends of his fingers. “Fascinating.”

“Is he turning into a wolf?” Derek’s concern was heavy in his voice. “Have I changed him somehow?”

“Definitely not a wolf, those aren’t…animal claws, but Stiles is evolving.”

“Into what?” Stiles screeched, his voice high and desperate. 

“Too soon to be sure, but these look more like talons, than claws.” Deaton let go of Stiles’ hand and checked his eyes, neck, and peered into his throat. By the time he’d finished, Stiles’ hands were back to normal. Deaton looked…perturbed.

“Oh, god. I’m turning into a giant lizard creature, aren’t I?”

Deaton smiled. “No, Stiles. You know yourself far too well for you to spend any time being controlled by another.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Derek said, backing up a bit when Stiles snarled. Snarled. Like a rabid fucking dog. He shook his head to rid himself of the…whatever.

“I have some personal questions I need to ask.” Derek nodded. “How long have the two of you been intimate?”

“Six months or so,” Derek said.

“Three,” Stiles corrected. “We’ve been dating _seven_ months, but we’ve only been having full sex for three.” Stiles shrugged at Derek. “He’s asking about fucking, Derek. Full penetrative sex.”

“Oh,” Derek flushed, “then yeah, what he said.”

“And is one of you more often the receptive partner?” Stiles joined Derek in a full-face flush this time. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t relevant,” Deaton said gently. 

“Me,” said Stiles. “I’ve always been the receptive partner.”

“Okay. Derek, do you use condoms during your intimate relations?”

Intimate relations? Why couldn’t the guy just say what he meant. “No,” said Stiles. “We figured we wouldn’t need to. What with Derek not being able to get sick. We figured he wouldn’t have any STD’s and well, I’ve only been with Derek, so…”

“I see.”

“Wait,” Derek said. “You think I’m changing him with my semen?”

“Well, no, and yes. You are an Alpha, and as such your seed is much more potent now than it would have been before.”

“But I’ve never heard of that happening before. I would know if that was possible.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s the whole story, just potentially a contributing factor shall we say.” Deaton looked between the two of them and sighed. “The rise in aggression and need to prove he can defend his claim on you is likely down to your mating ritual not having been completed.”

“Our what now?” Stiles glared at Derek, but Derek ignored him.

“Doc, he’s seventeen.”

“And you are a werewolf, Derek. I hardly think societal norms apply here. Add to that the fact we both know very well Stiles displays maturity well beyond his years, and I would say his age, in this instance, is irrelevant.” 

“I don’t think his father would agree with you,” Derek mumbled.

“Well, the Sheriff doesn’t have all the facts to hand to make an educated and well-reasoned assessment.”

“What mating ritual?” Stiles asked slightly louder. 

“Until your mating bond is completed, you can’t feel secure in your claim on Derek as your mate, and to you it will seem as though Derek, as the Alpha, is yet to fully commit to you. As a result, you feel the need to constantly prove to him that you are capable of everything the role of Alpha’s mate entails, including keeping other wolves in check.”

“I won’t do it,” Derek said. “Not until he’s at college, had a chance of a normal life.” Stiles found himself snarling again, his fingers tingled, and Derek swallowed hard. “Or at least until he’s eighteen.” 

“Well that’s not far away now, so I’m sure we can contain the situation until then.”

“How?” 

“I have an idea, but obviously, it’s up to the two of you to discuss it and make your own decisions.”

“Okay,” Stiles said. “Let’s hear it.”

Deaton turned to Derek. “It may ease the situation slightly if Stiles were to have the opportunity to mark you in the same way you have been with him. He won’t be able to smell it himself, as such, but on a deeper level he will be aware the scent is detectable to other wolves and it could calm the frustration he feels from your…” Deaton glanced at Stiles and grimaced slightly. “Shall we say, need to wait?”

“So Stiles just has to fu…”

“Like I said,” Deaton added quickly. “A conversation for the two of you to have in private.”

“It’s not because I haven’t wanted to,” Derek said sulkily. “He’s never shown an interest.”

“In what?” Stiles squeaked. “Stop with the cryptics, guys.”

“I’m sure Derek will fill you in later, Stiles.” 

“And you’ll look into the other thing,” Derek said, motioning to Stiles hands, which thankfully were normal again. “You have an idea, don’t you?”

“I’ve never witnessed it before, but I think I remember reading something.” 

Stiles had made his way to Derek and was running his fingers over the deep scratches over Derek’s back. “Why aren’t they healing?” he asked Deaton.

“You put them there to mark him, Stiles. To show everyone he’s yours. Derek is trying to fulfil your need. He won’t heal until you give him permission to do so.”

Stiles felt sick to his stomach. It was bad enough he’d marked Derek up like that in the first place, let alone preventing him from healing. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore,” Stiles said, pressing a kiss to the deepest scratch. Stiles breath caught in his chest as he watched every single one fade to nothing, leaving perfect unblemished skin behind. 

“Your will is very powerful during this time of transition, Stiles. Be mindful of where you put your intent.”

“Like Jackson and Derek not being able to stand up with me saying so.” Stiles let go of a deep breath. “What if I hurt someone, I mean really hurt someone?”

“I think that’s unlikely, Stiles. You said yourself, this is only happening with wolves. And besides we may well have found a quick fix for that in the interim.”

Stiles nodded. Derek slipped on his shirt and took Stiles’ hand. “It’s going to be okay. I love you, Stiles, and I’m going to show you I’m yours and will only ever be yours.” It went a little way towards calming whatever creature was evolving inside Stiles, even though for now, it was just words.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles stared at Derek, unable to process what he’d just said. “You thought I wasn’t interested in fucking you,” he said again, just to make sure he’d heard correctly. 

Derek huffed. “Like I said, three times already, you’ve never shown an interest. If you want to do it so much, how is me asking you to turning into a fight?”

“It’s not a fight. I’m just…it’s just…I’m finding it hard to come to terms with how monumentally stupid you can be sometimes.” Stiles grinned to take the sting out of his comment. “How could I not want to bury myself inside you, huh? Have you seen you?”

Derek took hold of Stiles hips and reeled him in. “I figured not everyone would necessarily want to do that. I have gay uncles…” Derek huffed. “Had gay uncles…who didn’t like the idea of putting their cocks in anything, not even blowjobs.” 

“Oh, god,” Stiles groaned. “Can you imagine going through life without blowjobs? Well, actually I can still remember life without…anyway, I definitely like the idea of putting my cock in you, in any and every hole it will fit. I’d put it in your ear if I thought it would get me off.”

“Okay, Stiles, I get the picture.” He kissed along Stiles jaw, sneaked his hands under Stiles shirt.

“Wait, you want to do this now?” Stiles squeaked. Derek froze. 

“You…you don’t want to?”

“I do, I just…I have no idea what I’m doing. Maybe give me a little time for research?”

“Research? Stiles, it’s sex. We’ve been having sex for months, I would have thought you’d figured it out by now.”

Stiles pulled Derek against him and held on tight. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hey,” Derek crooned gently. “You aren’t going to hurt me. And if you do, by accident, then you’ve given me permission to heal.”

“And that makes it okay?”

Derek’s breathing shallowed, his heart hammering against his chest. “It is for me, Stiles. It is for me.”

Slow and steady, the words filtered through. “You want me to hurt you?”

“One thing at a time,” Derek said with a throaty chuckle. “Let’s save that conversation for a later date, but just know you don’t need to worry, okay?” Stiles didn’t answer, and Derek commenced his slow, deliberate march over Stiles neck and jaw with his lips. It took longer than usual, but eventually, Stiles let go of the tension and the worry and got with the programme.

 

“You broke me,” Stiles mumbled onto Derek’s shoulder. “A bottom shouldn’t be that needy or demanding.”

“You expected me to just lay there and take it? It not as if you ever do.” Derek’s chuckles were becoming common place, and it lifted Stiles’ heart more than a little bit to know he had made that happen. “Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining. Unless all that ‘oh, Derek, oh, Derek’ was you asking me to stay still.”

“Hey,” Stiles slapped Derek’s hip as he sat back on his heels. “No dissing my sex talk. We’ve discussed this before.”

Derek grimaced. “It feels sticky and just a little gross back there.”

“Ha, see. Welcome to my world. Now you know why I fidget so much afterwards when all you want to do is sleep.”

“That’s a good point. Why are you so awake?” Derek flipped them over and pinned Stiles to the bed beneath him. “I must have done something wrong, or at least you did, for us still to have so much energy.”

“Speak for yourself, wolf boy. I am ready to hit the hay for at least an hour.”

“The least you could do is bring me a wash cloth before you dose off.” Derek disappeared, only to reappear a moment later to throw a damp cloth on Stiles’ stomach. “We’re going to have to work on your mann…” Derek’s words trailed off as he stared towards Stiles. 

“What?” Stiles sat up. “What is it?”

“You broke the bed.” There was just a little awe in Derek’s tone. Stiles followed his gaze but couldn’t see anything untoward. He shuffled round and leaned to the side. 

“Oh.” The sides of the thickly upholstered leather headboard were shredded. Stiles checked his hands. No sign of his…talons. “I, uh…not sure how that happened.” He swung back to Derek. “You’re okay though, right?”

Derek’s shocked expression remained. “Never better,” he mumbled. “Never better.” 

 

They decided it was too early to test Deaton’s theory on the wolves. Derek insisted they should do it at least another couple of times before letting Stiles mix with them. “Just to be on the safe side,” he said. “They are all pretty twitchy when I mention you. A bit of space couldn’t do any harm.”

Stiles snuggled into Derek’s side. “It was never that I didn’t want to. I just figured, what with you being an Alpha and all, you wouldn’t like the idea. And it was easier not to suggest it than risk you turning me down.”

“I don’t go in for all that dominance bullshit in a relationship, Stiles. I may be a werewolf, but I’m still a regular guy.” Stiles could feel Derek’s disappointment coming off him in waves. “And if you haven’t realised things are different with you, special with you, then we have far bigger problems.”

Stiles kept his head down, almost afraid to ask. “Like what?”

“Like you breaking what’s left of my heart, just as I thought it was healing.” Stiles held on tighter, but Derek loosened his grip on Stiles waist. “God, Stiles, I let you beat on me in front of the pack. I even submitted to you, in front of them, and it isn’t the first time. You’ve always been able to talk me into crazy shit.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered, pulling Derek’s arm back around him. “And I’m sorry about your bed.”

“I don’t care about the bed.”

“I know.” An uneasy silence spread out between them, and Stiles felt a trickle of fear. “If I’m that special, Derek, why won’t you complete the mating ritual?” Derek’s jaw clenched as he ground his teeth together. “I’m not going to leave you,” Stiles added. “Ever.”

“It’s not that.” Stiles gave Derek the time he needed to gather his thoughts. “The age thing, and college, is just easier.” 

Stiles scooted around to straddle Derek’s lap and look into his eyes. “Then what is it?”

“It’s dangerous, Stiles. Really fucking dangerous. Especially for you as a human.”

“Okay, but that’s never stopped us before.”

Derek huffed. “Look, I know it’s possible…with a human, I had enough human aunts and uncles to prove that, but it’s not something anyone ever got around to explaining to me. I know how to do it in principle, can feel how to do when my wolf comes to the surface and wants to get it done…but that doesn’t mean I can do it safely.” Derek cupped Stiles’ cheek. “I don’t want to risk losing you, Stiles. If I do it wrong…at the best, I could accidentally change you, and at the worst…”

“You’d kill me,” Stiles finished. “You didn’t think about doing it with Kate?”

“What? No, god. She wasn’t my mate, and I was just…I was just a stupid kid who didn’t know any better.” Stiles looked away. Stupid kid, huh? “And before you go comparing yourself to a younger me you should know I was very different back then.”

“How so?”

“When Deaton talks about your maturity, he’s right. Even compared to Scott or Lydia.” Derek dropped his gaze, started to fiddle, and Stiles knew he was going to start talking again about his family. “My family,” he sighed deeply, “they cossetted me, protected me. I may have grown up in a supernatural family, but I wasn’t wise to the world. Sure, I knew about hunters, even heard about people being caught and killed by them, but it didn’t mean anything because I didn’t know them. I wasn’t prepared to even consider that somebody would use me to get to my family, to just scrub us off the face the earth.” He shuddered through the memories, and Stiles stroked gentle fingers over his cheek. “Kate was evil, and she took advantage of a dumb kid to commit murder.”

They kissed a little. Stiles hoping to cover over the scars once more and instead fill Derek’s mind with happier times. Once he was happy he’d banished thoughts of Kate and the guilt Derek held, he got back on topic. He hadn’t realised there was more to the process of claiming a mate, but now he knew, he wanted to get it done. Much like Derek’s wolf. “Talk me through the process. Maybe we can figure out a way to do it safely.”

“It’s a blood ritual. As an Alpha it’s more intense. Most wolves will have already mated before becoming head of a pack.”

“You need my blood, like with a bite?”

“During sex, before my climax, I need to take your blood into me, and you need to take mine into you.”

“Okay, so can’t we just prick pinkies and rub it around a bit?”

“Are you taking any of this seriously?”

“Then tell me and stop leaving me to guess.”

“It has to be arterial. If I do it wrong…”

“I’d bleed out.” 

“Too small an incision and it won’t be enough to complete the bond. Too big and we risk you bleeding out. Even if I get it right I could still end up changing you, especially as I have to open myself for you too.”

“Would I bleed out too fast for a bite to take effect?” Derek narrowed his eyes. “As a precaution, I can give you permission to change me.”

“You’ve never been interested in in the bite.”

“I would do it to be with you.”

Derek smiled softly. “Unfortunately, it wouldn’t work. As you said, the bite wouldn’t take hold fast enough to heal you, that’s even if I was in control enough to realise I’d made a mistake. But more importantly, with you already changing into…something else, the bite could be fatal.”

“So, we keep on Deaton’s case until he finds answers, and in the meantime, I get to fuck you and mark you up to prove you’re mine.” Stiles grinned. “I don’t see a downside to that plan.”

“And that,” Derek flipped them over and nuzzled into Stiles’ neck, “is one of the many reasons I love you. Always full of such good ideas.”

“Did I pop your cherry?” Stiles blurted out. “I mean, I don’t mind if I didn’t, but it would be so cool if I did.” Derek froze. “Inappropriate question, or just my brains usual bad timing?”

“Neither, I just…I thought…”

“Thought?”

“I guess there’s no reason why you would know.” Derek frowned. “You’re the first guy I’ve been with. Kissed, even.”

“Are you saying you’re only gay for me?”

“No, I mean, I’ve been attracted to guys before, I just…well, I’ve never acted on it. I suppose I always had too much going on. As I’ve explained, a hundred times already, it was different with you. I wasn’t about to ignore that. You’re surprised.”

“Yeah, only because you seemed to know what you were doing. I figured you’d done it before.”

“You’re not the only one capable of research, Stiles. I wanted to make sure we got it right.”

Stiles reached up to kiss, hot and hungry. “You have no idea how hot that is,” he said between ravaging Derek’s mouth. “I will never, ever, get enough of you.”


	7. Chapter 7

Lydia stopped as she walked into the library. “What the hell is Isaac doing?”

Stiles grimaced. “It will take too long to explain, just…work around him.” Stiles stroked a hand over Isaac’s hair as he nuzzled against Stiles’ thigh. He’d been sat at Stiles’ feet on and off for the last two days. Ever since Stiles had been allowed to mix with the wolves again after fucking Derek senseless for the best part of a week. This was the first time however, he’d done it outside of the subway, and yeah, just a bit freaky for it to happen in school. Stiles didn’t want to think too much about the why, but he had an idea it was because Scott had been complaining about Stiles spending too much time with Derek when Isaac had walked into the library. He’d pushed Scott away from Stiles, and promptly sat at his feet, growling every time Scott got too close. They’d reached a compromise, in that Isaac would let Scott sit at the table to study, if Isaac could stay where he was. He’d refused to even sit at the table with them.

“But that’s just…”

“I know. It’s a process. He’ll leave once he knows I’m safe.”

Lydia went to say something, but Isaac growled. “Fine. But he’s safe with me, Isaac. What am I going to do, scream him to death?”

“You might,” he said, seriously.

“What if I promise to keep him safe,” she looked at Stiles, “keep him safe from Scott. Can we study without you under the table if I protect him?”

“Why does he need protecting from me?” Scott complained. “He’s my best friend.”

Isaac got to his feet and leaned on the table, getting all up in Scott’s face. “Then maybe you should think before you open your mouth and stop upsetting him.”

“I don’t…” Scott looked flustered. “Stiles, what is he talking about?”

“I’m trusting you, Lydia.” Lydia nodded to Isaac, and Isaac left.

“Scott, shut up,” Lydia said before Scott could open his mouth again. “Everyone knows how hard you’ve been on Stiles since he’s been with Derek. Grown a pair, and deal with it before you end up on your own.”

“Stiles would never…”

“Stiles is Derek’s mate, Scott. There is no stronger bond. Yes,” she sighed, “it trumps even BFF’s. Now grow up. We have bigger things to worry about.”

 

They did indeed have bigger things to worry about, in the guise of a band of rogue wolves. They weren’t a pack, they were omega’s travelling together, which apparently made them more dangerous because they had no ties to each other, no urge to protect. They were each for their own. It kind of reminded Stiles of Scott. Not that Scott didn’t want to protect anyone else, but that he refused to consider joining Derek’s pack. His heart was in the right place, he just…Stiles looked up to see Lydia and Scott staring at him. “What?”

“What the hell is that?” Lydia pointed to Stiles elbow. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Just below the edge of his shirt, where his elbow should end, there was a long, bony extrusion. Stiles put a hand over it. “I…” It disappeared under his fingers. “Just bumped it,” he said. “It swells sometimes.”

Lydia reached to the floor between their chairs and scooped up…holy crap…a feather. A long, sleek, silver feather. “I don’t think you bumped it Stiles.” She twirled the feather in her hand. “We need to talk.” 

But they didn’t get a chance to talk because Derek turned up to pull Stiles out of school. “Has Deaton found something?”

“Not yet. I need to keep you close.” Derek bundled Stiles into the car. 

“What about my jeep?”

Derek turned to face him. It had been a while since Stiles had seen him look so…serious. “It’ll be safe there for now. Stiles, there are rogue omega’s in town.”

“I know, we were just discussing it.”

“And you didn’t phone me?”

“I would have, if you’d given me five minutes. God, we’ve dealt with stuff like this before.”

“No, Stiles. This is different. This is very different. They are probably here for you.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re an unclaimed Alpha’s mate. If they…if one of them took you, claimed you, they would be able to defeat me in a fight. They’re looking to become a pack.”

“Why can’t they just do it?”

“My guess? They all want to be the Alpha. Doing it this way, it will just be which ever one kills me first.”

Stiles didn’t have to look at his hands to know his talons had extended. “I’ll stay by your side until they’re gone. I promise.”

“Actually, I was going to hide you, then track them down with the pack.”

“Derek, I know you mean well, and I know you want to keep me safe, but we are stronger together. If I’m truly your mate, please don’t shut me out.”

“Stiles, I can’t…”

“Risk losing me. I know. But it works both ways. What ever this is I’m turning into…” Stiles touched a talon to Derek’s arm, “I can’t risk losing you, either. Hiding this…hiding me…is not the answer. Besides, anyone/anything getting too close to you…I’ll rip them apart, and that is a promise.”

Derek took a deep laboured breath. He knew Stiles was right, Stiles could see it on his face. “Okay, but on one condition.” He held Stiles by his upper arms and looked deep into his soul. For a moment, Stiles lost the world around them. The car seemed to dissolve, and they were standing in the woods surrounded by snarling wolves. Stiles heard an ear-splitting screech, followed by yelps and terrified cries as the wolves scattered. He and Derek watched as the rogue wolves were picked off, one by one, by an unseen saviour until the woods fell silent once more. “Stiles!” Derek’s shout brought the world back into focus. “What’s wrong?”

“I, uh…I saw…” Stiles tried to pull himself together. He was shaking. He felt sweaty and sick. “Derek, it’s going to be okay. I had a vision. We kicked their asses and ran them out of town.” Stiles thought it best not to say they destroyed every last one of them. Well, he’d destroyed them. Or rather the whatever it was he was turning into. 

“Visions are only one possible outcome, Stiles. You should know that from the training you were having from Deaton before this other shit started happening.”

“Not this time.” Stiles shook off Derek’s hands and took them in his. “You have to trust me, Derek. This vision, it isn’t to do with spark magic. Derek, I think whatever I’m turning into sees, or at least pre-plans the future.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Says the werewolf. Give me a break, Derek, there are so many things even you don’t know about the supernatural. I’m telling you, there is a power there, like stopping you healing, or not allowing you to stand up. It’s real, and I need you to trust me.”

Derek nodded his head once. “Okay. Tell me what we need to do.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mini chapter to keep you going...

Stiles didn’t have a clue what to do. Derek and the pack, Scott and Lydia included, were watching him with anticipation but he had nothing. Nothing constructive. Nothing concrete. Just a feeling deep inside that everything was under control. He stretched his neck and shook his head. Whoa, that was freaky…his sight shifted, and he zoned in on a small mouse in the corner of the subway. Not only could he see it in vivid detail, but he could smell it, sense its tiny heart beating. It stopped it’s snuffling to look at him and he tilted his head to get a better look. The mouse was afraid of him, and that made him sad. He reached out with his mind to soothe the little creature. It twitched its nose before scurrying towards him. Stiles reached down and scooped up the mouse, ignoring the talons and the light dusting of downy feathers over the back of his hands. “Hey, little guy,” he said, bringing the mouse closer to his face. “No need to be afraid of Stiles. I’m here to protect you.”

“Stiles…” Derek’s voice was gentle. The gentle he usually saved for the bedroom. As Stiles looked over to him, he took in the shocked faces of the rest of the pack, and a flutter at the edges of his vision that dissipated in a shower of sparkles. He looked at the floor to see a smattering of silver feathers at his feet. 

“You…you had…” Stiles looked at Scott, struggling for his words. 

“You had wings,” Lydia supplied helpfully. “Huge, silver wings.”

“And a tail,” Isaac whispered. “You…you were beautiful, Stiles.” Derek’s growl brought them back to earth. Isaac dropped his awed gaze. 

“I know what you’re turning into.” They all looked at Jackson. “I’ve seen it before. Not in real life, as a team mascot. The tail…it was a lion’s tail, but silver-white. Long and slender with a tuft at the end. Your wings…and the way you moved your head was like an eagle. Stiles, I think you’re a Griffin.”

“I’m a what, now?”

“A Griffin. It’s a mythical creat…”

“I know what a Griffin is, Jackson. I’ve read more about mythical creatures than you’ve read school books. But nothing, and I mean nothing suggests the existence of Weregriffins. I mean, Griffins themselves are not real. It’s not like the freaky wolf shit going on with you. Wolves are real. Griffins are not real.” 

“And Banshees?” Stiles looked at Lydia. “Well,” she said, her irritation obvious. “Am I real, Stiles?”

“But that’s a power, not a whole new creature,” Stiles protested. 

“Griffins are strong majestic creatures, thought to be King of beast and bird.”

“Lydia, I know you’re trying to help…”

“Stiles, they are guardians. The way you reacted to that mouse…what if you’re here to protect Beacon Hills from outsiders? To guard the Nemeton?”

“That’s all well and good as a theory, but you don’t just wake up one day as Weregriffin.”

“I think we need Deaton.”

“No.” Everyone turned at the sound of Peter’s voice. “Deaton can’t help with this one.”

“You know about Griffins?” Derek sounded as sceptical as Stiles felt.

“I’ve seen it before. The person you need to speak to is Chris Argent. He’s seen it too.” Peter frowned. “And the one thing I will say…the Argent’s don’t hunt Griffins for good reason.”


End file.
